To Winter

When you step outside and the chill nip at your fingertips reminds you of a pair of gloves, upstairs snuggled in a drawer. But it's too late, and you hurry off, hiding the cold digits in your cuffs.
When the last clutches of auburn leaves break up the harsh black lines of bare branches against the eggshell sky. I wonder if the reason I shall never have walls this colour is because of the reminder it will serve; it is the hue of this cruel wind.
The carpet of fire is completed. The trees have let fall their cadmium colours, and they crunch underfoot. All too soon they will be slippery, a hazardous mush to block drains and freeze across pathways.
The sun shines but it is music falling on a deaf ear. The heat does not reach us, and we huddle, and stamp our feet, and sit by the radiators...
...and watch the bonfires flare against a backdrop of the dark as pitch sky, and squirrel away at roasted chestnuts, and delight in the bundling up of mittens and scarves and novelty hats. All Hallow's Eve is upon us, and costumes are agonised over, and Guy Fawkes celebrations will follow soon after. Fireworks, and the warm glow of your house as it comes into view after a swift walk home, and the dew-drenched cobwebs in the crisp early mornings. Christmas is just around the corner, and we save, and plan gifts, and start counting down...
...Winter is not so bad. He must feel jealous of Summer and her bright colours, her giggling breezes beside his gales, her soft rains beside his storms. He cares gently for his snowdrops, he feeds you crumbles and thick stews and stuffing with the turkey. He casts the silence during the first snow, composes the soft cascade of the flakes that fall. He has made ready all the children's favourite games. Conkers, snowball fights, the glitter-drenched pictures of November 5th. He reminds everyone of friends and family, gathers them together, and watches through the snow-lined window as they sit, and laugh, and make merry.

I can never decide if I'm a summer person or a winter person. Enjoy the beautiful season as it is.

The more you look, the more you see

Yours, Reflectfully,

Abby

To Summer

Toes sink into the long, dewy grass.
The morning sun, warm on glowing skin.
A butterfly flutters, leaving there
A trail of faintly visible gold.
Bright white washing flaps gently, lazily
Mimicking the birds buoyed up on their
Azure sea, their boundless swathe of blue.

And Ah! that blue. The forget-me-nots
Hang their heads. The jays and dragonflies
Cease to fly. Peacocks sit, tails lowered.

And so, they emerge. Streams, and crowds, and
Hordes of pale faces, too long ensconced,
Seek ice cream, merriment, picnics, Sea.
They lie, lounge, loll, sprawled on the carpet
Of emerald green. They laugh, they shout,
The collective voice of happiness
Dancing and wheeling up to the sky.



I love Summer :D It's been a while in arriving, but now it's here I think everyone's appreciating it a lot more than they would have otherwise. So I think it's probably worth the wait. I wrote this in the hopes that it would express my pleasure over this gorgeous season, not to win any prizes ;D
I think what I love the most is not worrying about the weather, as we must so often in our changeable climate. Who cares about umbrellas, and layering clothing, and matching socks, when the sun is beating down glorious rays of warmth?
Many people seem to dislike this heat though, what do you think? Let me know your favourite time of year :)